


When the Shadows Have Teeth

by shadowblade_tara



Series: Nyctophilia [7]
Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Attempted Sexual Assault, Jazz returns to the scene!, M/M, They get along like a house on fire, assholes get ate, but not graphic, canon typical cannibalism, good moving on, jazz meets venom, no one?, who's surprised
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 06:24:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16718059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowblade_tara/pseuds/shadowblade_tara
Summary: It doesn’t do anything.  It just looks her over, like it’s trying to figure something out, before nodding to itself and starting off towards the other end of the alley, away from the street.  Without thinking, Jazz takes a step forward.“Wait!”  It pauses, glancing back at her, and she offers it a shaky smile.  “Thank you.”





	When the Shadows Have Teeth

**Author's Note:**

> A quick aside to one of my tags - the beginning involves attempted sexual assault. There is nothing graphic - I don't believe in traumatizing people that way. Still, it's there, and it's clear what's about to happen. If that's not something you can read, skip down to just a little above the first section break, the part that matches the summary.
> 
> Stay safe, my lovelies!

Jazz has always had two great loves in her life – art and Prue, the woman who became her wife. Prue likes to tease her that she’s actually the second greatest love of Jazz’s life, and Jazz likes to tease back that it’s only because she met art first. Art is the driving force of her life, this search for meaning in images, and it’s made her do some pretty stupid things in her life.

She stopped spray-painting walls when she was sixteen and got arrested the second time for it, but that was only because the arresting officer introduced her to a friend of his – a tattoo artist who needed an apprentice. 

Every year for Christmas, she sends that officer a sketchbook that she’s filled over the year with her sketches, a thank-you for introducing her to her passion. She even designed a tattoo for him once. He sent her a picture of the fresh ink once he got it done. She still has it.

Still, sometimes, when she needs a good thrill and Prue is working late, she’ll go out and find an out-of-the-way place to graffiti. One of those excursions was actually how she met Eddie Brock. 

Tonight is one of those nights.

She’s putting the finishing touches on her masterpiece, brightening up an otherwise dank alleyway, when she hears it behind her.

“Hey, sugar.”

She turns around, spray can in hand. He’s so much taller than her, only a little drunk, broad shoulders and a smile on his face that says she’s not going to like where this is going. She doesn’t bother smiling back, or speaking. Nothing good is going to come from this encounter.

He doesn’t seem put off by her silence. Instead, he takes a step forward. “You’re a pretty little thing. It’s kinda dangerous out here, isn’t it? Why don’t you let me take you home?”

Shit shit shit _shit_ – she doesn’t think. She turns and darts off to the side, making a break for the street. He lunges forward and grabs her arm, grip tight enough to bruise. She pushes against him as he drags her back, nails digging into his skin and drawing blood.

“Calm down, bitch!”

“Leave me alone! Let go!”

**“Jazz!”**

She doesn’t get the chance to register the new voice. She’s pulled from the man’s grip, the hands taking her clawed – _clawed?!_ – but gentle, and the next thing she knows, she’s watching – 

Oh. Holy _shit._

Her rescuer is _huge_ , black like tattoo ink, white eyes and long tongue and so many _teeth_ – 

The man is trembling, stumbling away, trying to apologize or beg, but the creature doesn’t give him the chance to find his voice. It opens its mouth wide, and bites the man’s head clean off.

She can _hear_ the sickening crunch of bones between teeth. The sound is sickening, but she doesn’t look away. The creature takes a few more bites, and there’s nothing left of her attacker but a blood stain and some bits of gore that got missed.

Then it turns to face her, and she freezes.

It doesn’t do anything. It just looks her over, like it’s trying to figure something out, before nodding to itself and starting off towards the other end of the alley, away from the street. Without thinking, Jazz takes a step forward.

“Wait!” It pauses, glancing back at her, and she offers it a shaky smile. “Thank you.”

There’s a very long pause. **“Welcome.”**

The smile turns into a grin. “What’s your name?”

There’s another very long pause, and Jazz gets the feeling it – _he? maybe?_ – is a little shy. Or confused. **“We are Venom.”**

Before she can ask anything else, it’s gone.

/------------/

She actually starts crying when she makes it home. Prue holds her, comforts her, even cries with her. It could have been worse. She’s absurdly grateful it wasn’t. Prue wants to call the police. Jazz talks her out of that.

“I don’t think the other guy could speak English. He might not have been here legally, and you know I don’t wanna get him into trouble. He saved me.”

That’s not true, and she feels horrible lying to her wife, but what can she say? She can barely process what she witnessed, and at least part of it is true – her rescuer was definitely not from around here, and she doesn’t want to get it into trouble.

It’s not until much later that night, when Prue is sleeping peacefully next to her (maybe not so peacefully – she’s got a death grip on Jazz’s night shirt) when it hits her.

It knew her name. It called her Jazz, right before it ate the asshole.

Venom.

V.

_Holy **shit.**_

/------------------/

Trying to track down Eddie Brock isn’t as hard as Jazz anticipated. She finds him a few days later at the bar across the street from her shop.

He’s sitting there, beer in hand, Bluetooth in his ear, watching the drag queens perform. She can’t help but smile at that. 

Then she gets close enough to hear him. He’s talking to someone, discussing the queens, but it suddenly strikes her that the Bluetooth is off. He’s using it to hide the fact that he’s talking to himself.

She walks up to him and taps him on the shoulder. He startles a little, and she’s surprised to see how bruised up he looks. She offers him a small smile. “Hey. Can I talk with you – outside?” He nods and stands up, motioning to the bartender that he’ll return, before following her outside.

They head over to her shop. It’s closed, and she wants privacy. She locks the door behind him and finally turns to face him.

His expression is completely closed, a new one for her. She smiles at him, hoping her next words will put him at ease. “Venom? Your partner is Venom?”

He completely stiffens. “Jazz, please – “

**“It’s okay, Eddie.”**

That voice almost makes Jazz jump, but then she sees it – a small, ink black tendril appearing from Eddie’s shoulder, forming a small version of the face that she saw that night. Eddie’s fists clench, then he sighs as all the fight leaves him. “You’re not making this easy, V.”

**“You’re making this hard.”** Venom retorts. **“She is like Anne. Ally.”**

“I can be.” Jazz says quickly. “That’s actually why I wanted to talk to you.” Now she has both of their attentions, and it’s almost unnerving. But she’s seen how gentle Venom can be, and she knows Eddie, and she can’t find it in herself to be scared of either of them.

“When I realized who he was, I – well, I can’t imagine he’s common knowledge.” Eddie shakes his head. Jazz continues. “So – I wanted you to know that you’re safe here. With me. If you ever need help, or just a place to lay low – I can give you that.”

Eddie just shakes his head again. “I can’t ask that of you. You have Prue.”

“And Prue backs me.” Jazz insists. “I didn’t tell her, but I know if I tell her that this –“ she motions towards Venom – “is who saved me from being raped, she’ll back me.”

Eddie draws in a shaky breath, and Jazz knows he’s probably on the verge of a panic attack. “I know, I know, just – I can’t protect all of you. I’m just one man.”

Jazz just grins at him. “Considering what I saw, I’d say you’re more than just anything right now. If you’ll let Venom help.”

“That kind of defeats the purpose of me protecting them, now doesn’t it?”

**“We can take care of ourself.”** Venom says. Their tone is almost snappish, but there’s something else there, something that sounds like it hurts, and Jazz wonders if it’s related to the bruises. **“She makes sense. Need allies, Eddie. LIFE is still there.”**

“LIFE Foundation?” Jazz demands. Eddie nods, and she can’t stop her lip from curling. “Explains a lot. Some of those assholes come by and get tattoos here. They like to talk a lot.” She tilts her head to the side, considering. “Actually, they still come by occasionally. I know LIFE is still around – they didn’t get shut down.”

“Yeah, I’m aware.” Eddie says sourly. “And they’re still after Venom.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.” His breath is still a little shaky, but Venom just rubs their head against his cheek, providing what comfort they can. Jazz watches as Eddie’s breathing slowly calms, and he flashes Venom a small smile. She grins.

They’re good for each other. 

“You know, if those assholes come back in, I can always just keep my ear to the ground. They talk a lot – I wouldn’t even have to ask questions. Anything I learn, I can pass on to you. Keep both of you safe.”

“Jazz – “

“You aren’t asking, I’m offering. So say thank-you and accept my help.”

Eddie laughs outright at that. “You are almost as pushy as V.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

**“You should. We are very persuasive.”** Venom says proudly. Eddie just shakes his head, still laughing.

“How the hell did I get this many pushy people in my life?” he wonders. “You know what – don’t answer that. I don’t think I care.” He steps forward and gives Jazz a quick hug, which she returns. She can feel the cool slickness of Venom gently wrapping around her arm, their own approximation of a hug, before they separate. “Thanks, Jazz.”

“I should be thanking you.” she says, and she can feel the tears burn her eyes again. “If you two weren’t there – “

“Don’t think on it.” he advises. “It didn’t happen. Go home, Jazz. Stay with Prue. I can only imagine how well she took that.”

Jazz laughs. “About as well as you would think – she threatened to go hunt him down and personally kick his ass.”

“Prue’s scary as shit – she’d do it.” He starts to walk away, then pauses. “Jazz? Don’t get yourself hurt because of us. We don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Jazz grins. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’ve got this.”

She watches as they walk out the door and back across the street to the bar. Instead of staying inside, they leave again a few minutes later. He probably just paid his tab. She watches them until they turn the corner and are out of sight. She sighs.

Life just got a hell of a lot more interesting.

Time to go home. Prue is waiting for her.


End file.
